Bluffton Sermon (September 4, 2008): “A Weary Traveler”

So there once lived, during a time of a great inequality, a very rich man, at least by the standards and definitions he had adopted himself.  Now, this man was well known as the rich man because for one he wore the royal color of purple, and didn’t spare the finest linens for his expansive wardrobe.  He never wasted a day without feasting sumptuously.  He not only celebrated overeating, but everyday would celebrate a feast that was seen as a “special occasion.”  This man was a ruler of people, an authority figure.  His peasant workers called him a “blessed man” for there is no possible way he could receive these things unless God, Yahweh, was showing favor on him.  After all he was a religious leader.  This great man would not be complete without a mansion to call his own, equipped with a large, intimidating front gate to keep all the evil beggars and thiefs away from his pricey possessions. 

At this gate laid a man, who was given the name Lazarus.  After being dumped on the street to die, this man, covered with sores all of over his body, waited in desperation, for something to satisfy his great hunger, for Lazarus was very poor.  He was the kind of poor that had been cycling through his people for generations and generations.  The kind of poor that was getting worse as history revealed itself; the kind of poor that Lazarus seemingly had no control over.  Lazarus, in his sickness was now reduced to waiting for the crumbs that fell off the rich man’s table.  (now the rich man, as many did, used a fresh loaf of bread to scrub his hands clean after the meal, these were the crumbs that even Lazarus was kept from eating.)  Outside a pack of dogs, the unclean animal, shared company with this man, sending the message to the rich man that this Lazarus was an unclean person, and deserved the life punishment he was receiving for what was sure to be the result of his “sinful behavior.”  As the dogs approached the helpless Lazarus, it was clear even to the animals that this man was close to death.

So Lazarus died, alone, outside the gate, waiting for the crumbs that were used as napkins by the unnamed rich man.  Many said that this was the right consequence for an unclean life, for a life of sin that had to be the cause of this brutal poverty now visible for onlookers of the corpse. But something was hidden from these rich leaders. For the name “Lazarus,” means “the one that God helps.”

So the angels came, just as they had come to the outcast shepherds to announce the birth of Jesus, the human one.  The angels carried Lazarus away to be at peace with Abraham.  These angels along with Abraham challenged every social norm in 1^st century Palestine, for the rich man also died, and was only buried, most likely by his five brothers who shared his lifestyle of material wealth. 

Now in his death the rich man was experiencing immense torment when he glanced up only to see Abraham far away, but he wasn’t alone.  Abraham and Lazarus were side by side, together.  In desperation and pain the rich man called out to Abraham screaming Father!  Have mercy on me! (still wondering why he, a blessed child of Abraham, a blessed child of god was experiencing such torment).  However mercy was not his only request, for he said to Abraham “send me Lazarus so that he can dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue.” 

But Abraham, as he pondered the rich man’s plight responded saying, “CHILD, my child, remember that during your life-time you received your good things, do you remember your daily feasts, do you remember your fine clothes, do you remember your gated mansion?  Lazarus in like manner evil things, do you remember him?  You have called him by name child so must have seen Lazarus outside at your gate; now he is comforted here, and you are in agony.”

Abraham continues his conversation with the rich man saying with sorrow in his voice, “Besides all this child, a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who want to pass from here to you cannot do so, and no one can cross from there to us.”  A great divide has happened in the family.

Perplexed and defeated, the Rich man says to his father, Abraham, I’m begging you…send him to my father’s house, for I have five brothers.  Tell Lazarus to warn my brothers, so that they will not lead themselves to this torment. 

And Abraham replied to the rich man’s orders saying, “They have Moses and the prophets; they should LISTEN to them.”  I am disappointed in your trust in the scriptures.  Didn’t they transform you, didn’t you LISTEN?? Or did you just read the words…

The rich man was becoming frustrated and desperate with his father, as he replied No! Father! If someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.  He was sure of it.

Abraham, shaking his head, spoke wisely with an intimidating seriousness saying, “If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.”

Now, this story is only one example of the many parables in the Christian scriptures that Jesus is portrayed telling during the time of his travels.  I think you can agree with me in saying that this is a story with a radical message, isn’t it.  Essentially Jesus is telling another story that communicates to those listening in that the kingdom he is inaugurating is turning the dominant worldview upside-down. It is a story that communicates Jesus’ warnings towards certain ways of life in 1^st century Palestine and as part of this tradition  we believe that these stories have implications on our lives as well. 

A couple things I want to point out.  One, let me assure you that my goal today is not to ponder where we all are going to spend eternity.  One of the reasons we aren’t looking today at this parable through the lens of afterlife is for one that the way 1^st century jews thought of afterlife was different than the way many in this room may think of afterlife.  More importantly, however, I am convinced that Jesus had a message for the here and now, and I am inclined to interpret everything he says through his sense of urgency to bring heaven to earth, to embody and reveal the upside-down kingdom of god.  He seemed to live believing that it could really happen, as if we weren’t a hopelessly corrupt world.

I heard a sermon once during advent titled “worship the baby, not the empire.”  The speaker was urging the congregation to think critically about Christmas, asking ourselves how the way we do Christmas reflects the way Jesus celebrated his entering into world. 

When I grew up, I was worshipping the empire, and I didn’t even know it.  Like the rich man I ate feasts whenever I wanted, and as certain brands of clothes became ways to climb the social ladder I begged and begged for them.  I was convinced that a pair of 90 dollar jeans was going to enrich my life.  The scary part is that in my narrow worldview it really did.  These same imperial values were shared by so many people in my suburb of isolating affluence that I really did fit in with a group because of the kinds of things I bought and valued.  Life then was all about me.  I knew it was best to “care” for people, but I had let the imperial values sink into me so much that I had become oblivious to the plight of my brothers and sisters around me, and I had become oblivious to my own plight as well.

Looking back I see a connection with the way my relationships and spirituality are connected to my stuff.  The more connected I got to the stuff I wanted the more disconnected and superficial my relationships became.  I became disconnected from my self.  I was letting media tell me who I was.  I was trying to serve to masters, and it wasn’t working.  My brother came to visit me at Ohio State when he was a student at Anderson to stay with me.  My life at that time revolved around sex, drugs, and parties…and while my brother was showing me pictures of his trip to Guatemala with friends I had little to no interest.  I had been so conditioned that even my brother, my best friend, couldn’t penetrate my hard shell.  I lived every day for me, and still I woke up every morning hating myself.

I am forever thankful for my brother, for he was the first person who pointed to Jesus as a liberator.  I moved my life to Anderson and was transformed by relationships with friends and mentors who moved me and inspired me to walk with a Jesus that believed that things didn’t have to be the way they were, not for me, not for others, not for the world.  People that taught me that you can not separate belief from action, that belief isn’t something you just proclaim with your words but something that cuts you so deep that nothing is unaffected.  People that saw Jesus as a radical lover of people that not only cared for the poor, but lived among the poor, as the poor.  Slowly my worldview grew, and then I went to Uganda.  Uganda continued to flip my worldview upside-down and every time I get to sit with my brothers in that country I return with a sense of how beautiful, and how messed up our world is.  And every time I get a sense of hopelessness and cynicism, I am drawn to the spirit of Jesus whispering, follow me…there is another way, and this way leads to freedom.

I resonate with Mother Theresa who said that she followed Jesus and he took her to the poor.  The more I opened myself up to injustice and the lack of love in the world that has caused oppressive systems and relationships the more I was convinced that another way of life was not only possible, but necessary.  I looked at a history of good caring people that tried to fix our problems, but nothing ever seemed to change and I started to wonder what would happen if we took Jesus seriously.  What would happen if we didn’t just read, but listened deeply to stories like the parable of the rich man and Lazarus and let it completely transform us?  What would happen if we went beyond charity to solidarity?

Have you ever thought about how we talk about the poor sometimes?? We throw out that term “the poor” as if we are talking about a completely different sub group of people in a far away land that live completely separate from us.  But we aren’t as separated as we may think.  We are all interconnected.  Our liberation is completely tied up in the liberation of the poor as well.  In this parable we start to see two seemingly separate lives come together under the same father, and the rich man is confronted with the reality that he had not only ignored his brother’s needs, but he had lived a life completely disconnected from him.  It is relational poverty. 

This is an important message for me to hear because many times in the past I have gotten so caught up in doing good Christian things for the poor that I feel like I actually becoming more disconnected in the process.  Its like when the rich donate clothes to a homeless shelter or to another country.  It is a very kind act that should not be ignored, but there is no relational interaction that can be dangerous.  The rich are happy because they have performed an act of charity and the poor are happy that they have clothes to wear, but still no one knows each other.  It allows us to keep our distance and stay divided, to hold completely different value systems but still allow us to feel as though we are helping.  Something changes when we allow ourselves to sit with someone who has lived a completely different life and allow ourselves to learn and be changed by them. 

Solidarity is life together with the other.  Solidarity speaks of compassion, where we celebrate together and we suffer together.  Rick Warren’s wife was talking to a nun at sisters of charity in Calcutta and at the beginning of the conversation she was heart broken about all the death and destruction she was seeing right in front of her.  The nun replied, Mrs. Warren, our people are hungry for bread.  We feed them, and they hunger no more.  Your people, you hunger for love, and that is much harder to feed.  But once we all figure out how, maybe there will be no more hunger for bread.  Our liberation is tied up in the liberation of the hungry, and for me it isn’t just how I interact with the poor, but it is asking the question “How does my life reflect the values of the poor?”  How does my life reflect that following Jesus is my deepest desire?  That is a hard question.  It effects virtually every decision I make.  If we really are all interconnected, then it isn’t just how I treat the poor, but its how I think through how I use my resources, how I take care of our environment, and how I walk with the poor literally and figuratively on a daily basis. 

The hard part of this is that not moses, the prophets, or Jesus has laid out a clear blueprint of exactly what life should look like pertaining specific issues and situations.  The rich man wanted  there to be a clear message sent to his brothers through a miraculous sign, but Abraham kept pointing him to the prophets, telling him that if they listen, they will be changed, and God will rule in their hearts.  Jesus over and over again speaks of the upside down kingdom where you must die to live and where the last will be first, but he doesn’t tell us exactly what it should look like, and it is especially difficult for us living in a modern context.  He said that loving people was easy, but loving your enemies is what he has urged his followers to embrace, for Jesus said that following him is hard.  Lets struggle together the hard road of liberation where we find love in the poor and the poor find love in us, and everyone has their daily bread.  Instead of striving for great things lets do small things with great love. Lets love our neighbor until it hurts, and then lets love them some more. 

The beginning of the title for this talk was “A weary traveler.”  It is true that that person is me, but I have a suspicion that it may be a part of all of us.  A rabbi said that no one has their eyes open to the sufferings of the world anymore, because the ones who do are depressed and weary.  As we take in the uncertainties around us, we all become a little weary, but the upside-down kingdom promises liberation in the midst of suffering, a grace that urges us to offer our lives as living sacrifices and a hope that never ever goes away.